


The Runner

by miss_aphelion



Category: Boy Meets World, Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Pre-Girl Meets World, Shawn and Cory are platonic soulmates, Topanga is amazing so she puts up with it, baby Riley Matthews so she doesn't do much, but they act married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_aphelion/pseuds/miss_aphelion
Summary: ”Hey, Cory," Shawn answered wryly."Don't you ‘hey, Cory’ me, mister!" Cory cried. "Where are you?""I think it's best I don't tell you until after I'm safely across the state line," Shawn said."Oh, my sweet innocent Shawnie, that's adorable. If you think I wouldn't track you down if you were on the freaking moon, you haven't been paying attention!”(Or, Shawn decides he has to leave after Riley is born, and Cory isn’t going to take his best friend leaving gracefully.)
Relationships: Cory Matthews & Shawn Hunter, Topanga Lawrence-Matthews/Cory Matthews
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	1. Goodbye, Mr. Cory

**Author's Note:**

> Very short, just writing for fun. I was so sad not to find more fic where Cory and Shawn are just amazing best friends, so I ended up having to write a bit myself without quite meaning to.

"Now?" Topanga asked, her eyes wild and wide open. She hadn't been sleeping much since bringing Riley home, and the dark circles simultaneously made her look otherworldly beautiful and terrifying. "You're running out on us _now_?”

Shawn backed up, nearly tripping over one of her chunky handmade rugs in his effort to get out of range. "Pretty sure it doesn't count as running out since I'm not actually part of this marriage?"

"Way I remember it, I ended up saying my vows to both of you because Cory wouldn't let you go, so you're part of this, Shawn Patrick Hunter--"

Shawn had timed his exit very carefully to coincide with one of Cory's late night grocery runs. He thought it might be easier to get past Topanga, and call Cory once he found a motel. Saying goodbye to Cory in person never worked out, because he always ended up following him back home. Since he couldn't seem to get past Cory, and so this had seemed the safer choice at the time.

But he had forgotten that Topanga was the scariest person he'd ever met, even when well rested. 

"Come on, Topanga, I have a reputation to keep, I cant be caught changing diapers," Shawn said, tossing her a roguish grin to try and soften it, and deflect from the fact that wasn't the reason at all. 

The real problem was that he'd been living in the spare room like their loser third wheel friend for years, but they'd still been young enough that it hadn't been strange. Cory and Topanga may be married, but they'd all just graduated, and roommates were expected.

Riley Matthews had not been expected.

She was tiny and beautiful and fragile, and she took up all the space here that Shawn had fooled himself into thinking belonged to him. Riley didn't deserve to grow up with some strange uncle in the spare room, making everything more complicated. She deserved a home like Cory had growing up, and Cory and Topanga would give it to her.

He wasn't going to get in the way of that.

"That's what Cory's for," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You're the one that reads to her and the only one that can seem to get her to sleep. If it wasn't for you and Peter Rabbit I would have lost it by now."

"This isn't you...having lost it?" Shawn asked carefully, and Topanga's eyes took on an almost reddish tint.

"Oh you haven't seen anything yet," she said, reaching out to wrap one of her hands in the front of his shirt to drag him closer. "Now you get in there and read to my child so I can sleep."

"And how am I supposed to get a life if I just keep pretending I can share yours?" Shawn asked quietly.

Topanga let him go, startled, and tears started to form in her eyes. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry, but this was long overdue. He never should have followed them to New York in the first place, he realized that now. If he'd been able to say goodbye then, he wouldn't have to say goodbye now. 

"Do you know how many times I've tried to run? Because I've lost count. But Cory always pulls me back. I can't let him pull me back this time, Topanga. It isn't fair to any of us, least of all to Riley."

"Riley is going to need you," Topanga said, though all the fire had left her voice. "You can't just leave her with us. She'll end up like Cory."

Shawn laughed, shaking his head. "I can't think of a better way for her to end up, except for her to be a little like you too. Maybe she'll be like you both."

"But what's going to happen to her without a little of you?" she asked.

"Maybe she'll find a Shawn of her own, you never know," he said, and shrugged.

"He loves you, Shawn," Topanga said. "You know how much he loves you. I don't even know who he'll be without you."

"And I don't know who I am without him," Shawn said. "That's why I need to leave."

"Ten minutes," Topanga said quietly. 

"What?" Shawn asked, frowning.

"That's how long you have until Cory gets home, so that's how long you have for a head-start," she said. "He's going to try and stop you, and I'm not going to stop him."

Shawn picked up his duffle bag, and nodded, not bothering to talk her out of it. Topanga would do almost anything for him, just as he would do almost anything for her, but both of them made exceptions where Cory was concerned. He always came first for both of them.

Except just this one time, Shawn was putting himself first.

"Take good care of my niche for me," Shawn threw back with a grin, as he headed out the door. 

"If you're trying to make it so I won't miss you, it's working!” she shouted after him.

It was a lie, because that gorgeous grin of his just made her think of how much she'd miss it when it was gone.

* * * * * 

"I don't understand," Cory said. "You keep saying he left, why won't you just tell me when he's coming back?"

Shawn's ten minute head-start had lengthened to a good half hour due to Cory's complete and utter refusal to accept that Shawn was really gone.

"Honey, we've been through this, I don't know," she said.

"But how could you not know? We have rules, Topanga! We always let someone know where we're going, because New York is big and scary!"

"We've been here almost three years, don't you think it's time that you--"

"Big and scary, Topanga! Our daughter can never go outside," Cory decided. He paused. "We better give her the room with the bay window, so she can at least see the sky."

Topanga rolled her eyes, rocking Riley carefully as she fussed. "Well Shawn isn't five months old, so he is allowed outside, and he doesn't have to tell us everywhere he's going."

Cory snorted. "Ah, maybe he doesn't have to tell you, but we made a blood pact in second grade." He threw out his hand angrily. "Doesn't he know breaking it is going to give him cooties for a week? A week, Topanga!"

Topanga turned to stare at him. "I want a divorce."

"One of these times you're going to mean that, and I'm not going to believe you," Cory told her. 

"You're right, I guess I'm stuck with you, unto death, yada yada, but Shawn's not, and he needs to figure out who he is when he's not," she said. 

"Wait...you're serious," Cory realized, before going pale. He darted past her into Shawn's room, panicked, and turned on the lights. The bed was nicely made, but the closet was open and empty and the ever present stack of books on Shawn's nightstand was missing. He tried to take in air but he felt suddenly like he was suffocating. He spun around. "Topanga, all Shawn's stuff is gone!"

"I changed my mind, don't be like Daddy, Riley," Topanga told her daughter. "Daddy's crazy."

"I've got to find him," Cory said. "I can't believe he's trying to run off on me again. It’s like he doesn’t know me at all, does he really think I won't hunt him down?”

The phone rang before Cory could get his shoes on, and he dove for it, sending everything else on the side table to the floor. "Shawn? Shawnie? Shawn, is it you? Where are you? Shawn!"

"Hey, Cory," Shawn answered wryly. 

"Don't you ‘hey, Cory’ me, mister!" Cory cried. "Where are you?"

"I think it's best I don't tell you until after I'm safely across the state line," Shawn said.

"Oh, my sweet innocent Shawnie, that's adorable. If you think I wouldn't track you down if you were on the freaking moon, you haven't been paying attention!"

"You need to be with Riley," Shawn said.

"Yeah, yeah I do, but now I've got to come looking for you instead," Cory said. "Topanga knows what she married into."

"Sadly, this is true," Topanga agreed. "You can have a day."

"Ha, joke's on you, I only need half that!" Cory said.

"I'm not coming back this time," Shawn said, his voice low and serious.

"You always come back," Cory insisted. 

"Not this time," Shawn said. "I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye in person, Cory, but how many times have I failed at that? And I can't let you stop me this time."

"Well I can't let you not let me stop you, so tell me where you are," Cory said

"I'm sorry," Shawn said again. "I'll call again as soon as I know what I'm doing next."

"No, you'll call me now, and tell me--Shawn? Hello? Shawnie?" Cory pulled the phone away looking stricken. "I think he hung up on me. Shawn never hangs up on me. We have to say goodbye at least three times before we hang up."

"You know, Cory, you could just--" Topanga started.

"Not now, wife! My Shawn is missing!" Cory cried, as he ran frantically towards their bedroom.

Topanga rolled her eyes, and reached over to pick up the phone and dial star sixty-nine. 

"Thanks for calling the Grant Street Holiday Inn, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm trying to call my husband,” Topanga lied easily, “but I think I have the wrong room. He told me he's in room seven. Shawn Hunter."

"Hunter? Oh here we go. Well here's the issue, he's in room thirty-six, not seven!"

"Oh, I guess I've still got baby brain," Topanga said, mock-cheerful, "thanks for the help!"

Cory came tumbling out of their room, nearly falling flat on his face as he tried to put on his coat and his left shoe at the same time. "Thinks he can get away from me," he was mumbling, "I'll search every motel room in new York, nay, the world!"

"He's at the Grant Street Holiday Inn, room thirty-six," Topanga told him.

"Oh thank God, because I have no idea what I'm doing," Cory said, pressing a hand to his heart in relief. “I’ll be back by morning! Shouldn’t take long to wrangle him, never does.” 

Topanga just sighed, worried that this time that wasn’t going to happen. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

"Oh, right,” Cory said, spinning around and running back towards her. He leaned forward to place a kiss on Riley’s head. “Daddy will be back soon.” 

"Hey!” Topanga shouted, as he spun and turned back towards the door. 

Cory nearly tripped spinning around again to run back. He leaned forward and kissed Topanga passionately. “You are the best wife, you know that?” 

“Of course I am,” Topanga grumbled. “Who else would put up with a live in mistress?”

"You know Shawn doesn’t like when you call him that!” Cory said, finishing zipping up as jacket and almost walking into the door. He stumbled back again, opened it, and then went racing out. 

Topanga looked down at Riley, who stared back at her with her with what could either be a small smile or gas. “Your daddy isn’t going to be home by morning, is he?” she sighed. 

What she didn’t say out loud was that she worried Shawn wouldn’t be home at all. 

This time felt different, and Riley had changed everything. She had changed all of them, just by being, and things would only continue to change. 

And as much as her heart ached, as much as she was going to miss Shawn—she suspected he was doing the right thing. She could only hope that Cory would come to see it that way too.


	2. Hostage Negotiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Cory, what the hell?” Shawn cried, “How did you even get in?”_
> 
> _"I told the receptionist I was your husband,” Cory shrugged, before looking down at himself at him appraisingly. “She congratulated me on the baby. I guess I still have that new dad look.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally had an au-ish third part to this story planned, but I decided to keep it more as a canon missing scene between BMW and GMW. I may still end up writing the rest I had planned as a sequel, but I wanted to finish this one up as a standalone.

Shawn had been working on his laptop at the small motel table when he heard the door click open. He jumped to his feet, his eyes widening in surprise as Cory strolled in, holding a motel keycard and a small grocery bag. 

“Cory, what the hell?” Shawn cried, “How did you even get in?” 

"I told the receptionist I was your husband,” Cory shrugged, before looking down at himself at him appraisingly. “She congratulated me on the baby. I guess I still have that new dad look.” 

"How did you even find me?” he demanded. He’d deliberately chosen a place in the section of the city that Cory called ‘extra big and scary,’ in the hopes he would put off looking here until last. 

"I could find you anywhere, you know that!” Cory said, as he started rifling through his bag. 

Shaw heaved a sigh, putting a hand up to his forehead. “Topanga used star sixty-nine, didn’t she?” 

"I don't know how she did it, you know she's magic!” Cory snapped. “But stop distracting me! You’ve got some ‘splaining to do, Lucy!” 

Shawn shook his head in exasperation, and twirled a finger between them. “Shouldn’t I be Fred in this little metaphor?” 

“I said what I said!” Cory told him, and started running duct tape from one side of the door to the other. He tried, unsuccessfully, to rip it off on the end, before eventually giving up and just sticking it to the wall and turning it run it back to the other side. 

“Cory?” Shawn said, with the calm only years of their friendship could have been responsible for, “Whatcha doin’?” 

"I'm not letting you get out of here until we talk,” Cory said with determination. “I know how sneaky you are!” 

“Do you also know that the door opens out?” Shawn asked smugly. 

Cory paused, before reaching out experimentally to turn the handle. The door swung open easily into the hall, so one would only need to duck beneath the tape to step out. “Dagnabbit,” he muttered. He pulled the door shut again, and reached for the roll of tape again. “Fine. It’s fine. Just needs more tape!” 

"Cory,” Shawn sighed, stepping over. “Cory! Stop. Okay, give me that.” 

Shawn pulled the tape away from him hard enough that it peeled the tape he’d already laid down off the door frame. He took it and tossed it behind him, knocking it directly into the trash can. They both froze for a moment, and then broke out into grins.  
“Did you see that?” Shawn crowed, turning to double check. 

“That was awesome!” Cory agreed, grinning back. “Very dramatic! Unfortunately, it also means I need to go with Plan B.” 

“Plan B—?” Shawn began, as he started to turn back around. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop Cory slapping a handcuff around his wrist. “What the—?” 

“I left the key at home,” Cory said proudly, the other cuff already locked firmly around his own wrist. “So I guess we’re going back after all.” 

Shawn looked down at the cuffs in shock. They were cheaply made, and lined with fuzzy pink padding around the metal wrist latches. Cory had handcuffed them facing each other, right hand to right hand, which was the most awkward configuration he could have chosen. 

Shawn looked up at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?” 

"Shawn, you know me,” Cory said earnestly. “You know that I am.”

"Unlock these, now,” Shawn demanded, experimentally pulling at the cuff. Despite their flimsy appearance, they were solid enough to be a concern. “My flight is in like three hours!” 

“Flight?” Cory cried, outraged. “You’re going far enough away you have to _fly_? But we’ve never been that far apart!” 

"I'm going to Scotland,” Shawn admitted. 

“What?” Cory asked, dumbfounded. “Shawn, you can’t leave the country! We don’t even have passports!” 

Shawn rolled his eyes. “It’s not a joint activity, Cory. I got mine months ago.” 

"Why?” he demanded. “Why would you do that? Why would you go to Scotland? There’s nothing there we don’t have here! We could go upstate and find some sheep! We’ll make a day of it!” 

“I’m going to write for a travel journal,” Shawn said gently. 

“You can’t write for a travel journal,” Cory protested at once. “That would require you to travel! Like, all the time!”

"Yeah, the travel part is sort of mandatory,” he agreed. 

"No, no, Shawn! You can’t be doing any of this, because if you were, I would have known!” Cory shouted. “Because you would have told me!” 

"I was going to tell you once I was in Scotland,” Shawn said, pausing briefly before admitting, “because you don’t have a passport.” 

“Oh, I can get a passport!” Cory raged. “That’s just a fancy little license in a book. If they’d give one to you, I’m sure they’ll give one to me.” 

"You know you can’t go to Scotland,” Shawn told him. 

“Of course I can’t go to Scotland!” Cory cried. “I’ve got a new baby! I’m starting my first teaching job in two weeks! But if I need to stay here, then so do you. Because you aren’t allowed to go anywhere without me.” 

"We never said that,” Shawn said. 

“Yes, we did. Yes, we did!” Cory snapped, raising his hand to point at Shawn, and dragging Shawn’s cuffed hand up with his. “We said forever, Shawn. You and me. Forever. That’s what it means.” 

"Yeah, but, Cory, getting on plane to Scotland doesn’t make us any less friends,” Shawn said. “You’ll still be my best friend when I land.”

"Why are you doing this to us? Can you at least tell me that? Is it because of Riley?” Cory finally asked. “Because you just need to give it time, okay, this is new to all of us—“ 

“Cory, no, it’s not because of Riley,” Shawn said fervently. “I—I already love her, she’s like a little tiny you. That’s not the problem.” 

“Then what is the problem?” Cory demanded. “Everything was perfect! We were perfect. I finally had everything I ever wanted.” 

“But what about me?” Shawn asked quietly. “What about what I want?” He pulled at the cuffs in irritation, but there was no give. He was tied to Cory, just like always, and he had no place to hide, no way to run. He could feel his breaths shorten as the room started to spin. “Don’t you get it? I’m only twenty-three years old, and if I stay, it’s over for me. The only thing I’ll ever be is your best friend.” 

“Shawn?” Cory said in concern. “Hey, Shawnie, breathe slowly, come on, sit down.” 

Shawn went down gracelessly, his back hitting the door, and pulled Cory down with him. Cory knelt in front of him, tilting Shawn’s head back to look at his eyes. “Are you having a panic attack?” 

“No,” he said, as he pressed his eyes closed. He let out a breath, not quite sure if that was a lie or not. “But I need you to do something for me.” 

“You know I’ll do anything,” Cory promised. 

Shawn opened his eyes. “I need you to let me go.” 

"Anything but that,” Cory corrected shakily. “Please don’t ask me that.” 

Cory flashed to all those times he had pulled Shawn back. Again and again, he always dragged him back. He’d let him go that once, but Shawn had been coming back then. He’d always known he was coming back then. 

This time was different, he could feel it. Everything was different. 

"You can’t leave me, Shawn,” Cory said finally, because that was what this was really about. He wasn’t worried about Shawn, this time, he knew that he could take care of himself. Shawn had become a grown up in ways Cory was still trying to emulate, even though he was the one that was married with a kid. He was worried what he would be without Shawn. 

"I have to,” Shawn said with determination, holding his gaze. He still looked slightly panicked, like he was on the cusp of suffocation, but overall Cory could tell he was resolute. “And this time, I need you to let me.” 

Cory had been told, more than a few times, back when he was a kid, that Shawn was holding him back. Cory had always known it wasn’t true—they were just holding each other up. Cory never had stellar grades himself, but Shawn probably could have. Because Shawn, who was so much smarter than he pretended, who wrote poetry and understood people in a way Cory had only ever understood him, could be anything he wanted to be. Cory was always just going to be Cory, one half of Cory and Topanga, and one half of Cory and Shawn. 

For the first time, it occurred to him that maybe all this time, he had been the one holding Shawn back instead. 

His hand was almost as shaking as he reached into his pocket for the key, and then reached out to gently unlock the cuff around Shawn’s wrist. He remembered letting Shawn drive away in that trailer to find himself, and he remembered Shawn coming back. 

In the end, it had only brought them closer. Maybe this time would be the same.

"Promise me you’ll come back,” Cory said. 

Shawn stared at his wrist with wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe Cory had actually just done that. He swallowed hard. “I don’t know when, but I will always come back for you.”

"There’s going to be rules,” Cory decided. “And if you don’t want me to follow you, crying and holding onto your leg through the airport, you’re going to agree to them.” 

Shawn nodded, not stupid enough to think that was a bluff. “Okay.” 

“I want a call every day,” Cory said. 

“Once a week,” he countered. 

"Every other day,” Cory allowed. “And I want a visit every month.” 

“Once a week, and every six months,” Shawn said. 

“I don’t think you understand how negotiations are supposed to work,” Cory said. 

"I do,” Shawn said, “I’ve just always been better at them that you. I’ll call once a week. I’ll visit every six months. _At least_. If I can, I’ll visit more, and you can always be the one to call me.”

"Fine,” Cory said. “Deal. But I want you to buy me presents from the places you go. I want keychains and little mugs and snow globes and a sweater that says ‘Scotland’.” 

"Deal,” Shawn said, smiling softly. 

Cory signed, and fell back against the door beside him, unlocking the cuff from his own wrist and then spinning it in his hand. “Don’t suppose Topanga would—“ 

“Throw them away,” Shawn snorted. “Trust me, buddy.” 

Cory sighed, but tossed them to the trash can. Unlike Shawn’s lucky shot, his ricocheted off the wall and fell behind the dresser. “Dagnabbit.” 

"It’s going to be okay, Cory,” Shawn promised. 

“You always say that,” Cory complained. 

“Haven’t been wrong about it yet,” Shawn reminded him, turning to smile at him. “We’re going to be okay.” 

"I know,” he said. “But I still don’t want you to go.” 

"I know,” Shawn replied. “But I still need to.” 

Cory reached out and patted Shawn on the leg. “Okay,” he said. “Then we better go. I’ll drive you to the airport.” 

Shawn snorted, looking up as Cory got to his feet and held out a hand. “You expect me to fall for that? You’d just drive me back home.” 

“No, I’ll drive you to the airport,” Cory promised seriously, and kept holding out his hand. 

Shawn looked him at him thoughtfully for a moment, and then he took his hand. Cory kept his promise, and Shawn kept all of his. 

He even got Cory and Topanga matching Scotland sweaters, and a little tiny onesie for Riley. They sent back a photo, the three of them all matching, in front of their bay window, and for the first time Shawn didn’t feel an ache at not being there. 

He just secured the photo on the first page of his journal with a paperclip, and packed to get ready for the next place on his list.


End file.
